A Lot of I Knows
by wordpineapple19
Summary: "Is that the one where it will probably happen, or probably not?" Or Annabeth contemplates fighting Rachel and Percy just knows.


**Disclaimer: Holla attcha Riordan.**

 **What up! I finally had inspiration, so here's a one-shot. I'm in the midst of writing another one suggested by a lovely viewer (I'll PM you). But this one kind of popped up and I had to get it out of my head. It's during The Battle of the Labyrinth. It's loosely based on plot. I'm honestly not sure if there's a logical spot for it in the book, so it may deviate a little bit from the book world. But, whatever the case, it's my contribution to the Percy/Annabeth/Rachel triangle because I find it fascinating. Especially how Rick portrayed it. I hope I do it justice.**

:

"Honestly, I don't know how she paints. Like, does any of it get on the canvas? Or does it all end up on her clothes? And what is up with the hair brush? What's the story on that? She has a weird obsession with it. I'm telling you. She carries it like it's a relic. And she is the _farthest_ thing from stealth. You can hear Ms. Clumsy coming from a mile away. I'm serious, Percy. She going to-"

Annabeth continues to ramble, but I let her. I gave up trying to defend poor Rachel about thirty minutes ago. Lucky, said redhead is passed out a couple feet away from us clutching her hairbrush like a teddy bear, blissfully naive to the insult fest happening in her presence. I'll admit, she _really_ likes that hairbrush.

We're taking a pitstop, allowing ourselves a much needed rest. We had been walking forever. Which I guess makes sense. Considering this maze literally goes on and on and on and on and-you get my point.

I sigh and focus my attention back on Annabeth who has moved on to her reasons for why that "redheaded chick" is going to absolutely demolish our quest. I'm not quite sure what Rachel did to summon this type of wrath from Annabeth. But whatever it was, I hope for Rachel's sake that it didn't put her on Annabeth's hit list. Not many people survive that.

While Annabeth bashing Rachel bothers me a little-since she's a close friend of mine and all that-it fascinates me more than anything. Very rarely do I get to see a side of Annabeth that's not _lets kick ass and take names and save the world again._ So seeing her act like this-like a true teenage girl-gives me a weird, fuzzy feeling. It's like she's allowing me to see her in a moment of vulnerability. It's in moments like these I wish I was more perceptive. Maybe then I would know her reason.

I focus on her nose as it scrunches in clear distaste, and note how cute it is. Can I call it cute? Is that a friendly word? Maybe. Her pink lips form a scowl and she shakes her head. Blonde curls bounce and it's a happy contrast to her angry mood. Precious. That can be a friendly word too. I look back at her face.

Oh shit.

She's looking at me.

Oh, Poseidon. Did she want an answer?

Pull yourself together, man. Tell her what she wants to hear.

"Oh, yeah. Totally. I agree one-hundred percent." I nod. There. That should make her happy.

"You what?" Her eyes flash dangerously. Uh oh. Double shit. Wrong answer. You're screwed. "You think she would stand a better chance in a fight against me? What is wrong with you?"

Huh? I should have been listening. The correct answer is definitely no. I didn't have good odds in a fight against Annabeth. Much less Rachel. Why are we even talking about this?

"Are you planning on fighting her or something." I narrow my eyes, waiting for an answer.

She puts her nose in the air. The glint of the fire flashes over the freckles on her face, and I stare at them. "If you were listening to what I was saying, you would know that it was only hypothetical, Seaweed Brain."

"Is that the one where it will probably happen, or probably not?"

She just rolls her eyes at me. Fine then.

"Whatever. Why are you hypothetically fighting Rachel?" This is starting to seem personal. Which I don't understand. Annabeth's had something against Rachel since the moment she met her. She couldn't have personally offended her.

"Because I want to. That's why. Got a problem with it?" Now she's being snappy with _me_. This is not going to work.

"Yes. Yes I do. Because not only is it not justified, it's messing with our dynamic. What's with this personal vendetta?"

"Hmm," she nods thoughtfully. "Justified. Dynamic. _Vendetta_. Big words, Jackson. I'm impressed."

I want to say _I spend way too much time with you_ , but now is not the time.

"Nah uh. You can't change the subject. I'm not the sharpest crayon in the box, but I know what you're doing." She smirks. I take it as a small victory. Nice.

She looks at me. And looks at me. And I think maybe she's looking through me instead. She sighs and her shoulders sag, as if finally giving out under a massive amount of weight.

"Okay, I'll stop. I get it. You're friends or whatever." She says _or whatever_ as if the words are poisoned.

"No. That's not what I'm worried about. What bothers you so much about her? Did she say something? Do something? I'm just trying to understand."

She stares at the fire like it might give her the answer. I guess it doesn't.

"I think somethings…maybe aren't meant to be understood. At least by certain people at certain times." Great. Now I'm even more confused. Couldn't she have dumbed that down even a little? She gives me a small smile and turns away again. The sad look on her face threatens to tear my heart out. So I look away as well.

I take a minute to glance at Rachel. I could probably like her. I could probably date her. We could probably be boyfriend and girlfriend. Hell, we could probably be happy for a while.

But then I look at Annabeth. And when I look at Annabeth I _know_. I know she's my best friend. I know she will always have my back. I know the next time we fight side by side, I'll feel completely and totally alive. I know she can kick my ass. And most of all, I know that in some way, shape, or form, she will always be a part of my life. An important part. That's a lot of I knows, I know. Enough that I can't let her continue to feel this upset.

So knowing there's a 50/50 chance she may punch me, I reach out and grab her sneaker clad foot.

"Hey. I don't know what's up. Or what's wrong. But I do know I'm glad you're here. I know that I wouldn't be able to do this without you. I wouldn't be able to get out of the maze without you. I probably wouldn't be about to get out of a paper bag without you, really." She laughs and presses her smile to my shoulder. I feel her teeth through my shirt, and it should freak me out. But instead, flutters fill my stomach. I might barf. Or giggle. I'd rather barf. "So, I know that it's all going to work out. Because I have you. And we always work out in the end."

"That's a lot of I knows." She whispers into the fabric of my shirt.

I look down at her, and become painfully aware of how much I'm _starting_ to know.

"You're telling me."

:

 **Taaaaa daaaaaa. This is my first time writing from Percy's POV and I LOOOVVVEEED IT. It was so fun. I might use his POV again in the near future.**

 **Truefully, I like Rachel. I think she's essential to the books. And you can't blame the girl for falling for Percy. I mean come on. Not to mention half the girls in the series fall for him. Plus, I see a lot of myself in her quirks. Not the painting though. My stick figures are lopsided.**

 **Thank you for reading! Please review. It helps me so much. With confidence and polishing. Stuff you liked, stuff you didn't. One shot suggestions. Random tidbits about yourself. I'm all ears. Or eyes. Whatever.**

 **Again, thank you! And I hope you beautiful people have a lovely day!**

 **Gray:: John 3:16**


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